Slave of the OutcastChapter 39
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Charlie smiled as he dropped the box of dog treats into a plastic bag. He had two reasons to smile. Old Mrs. Cravens, nearing ninety, often asked him to drop off various items for her poodle "Sugums." She lived nearby and he lived in a small apartment over the shop, so he didn't mind making the delivery after closing up for the night.
His second reason to smile was his encounter today with the young woman, Maria. She was obviously troubled and he wished he could have been of more help, but beyond her physical beauty there was a sensitivity he had sensed from the beginning. Yes, the man who could capture her heart would be quite lucky indeed.
Clutching the bag of treats, he exited, locking the door behind him and proceeded up the street, stopping briefly to talk with Mr. and Mrs. Steinman, out for their evening constitutional, a bit late this evening since darkness had already fallen.
Moving on, he thought about the neighborhood and how it had changed. When he and Jenny opened the store the neighborhood had been a lot nicer. Oh, it had always been lower to middle income, but the people had been nicer then, more like real neighbors than the younger people now who were complete strangers and seemed to want to keep it that way. Then there was the crime. His store had been burglarized three times and once they had even taken several of the animals whom he had worried about much more than the money taken from the cash drawer.
There had been muggings over the years, but he had been lucky in that respect. He nevertheless unconsciously quickened his pace a bit.
"Hi, Mr. Branham," came the sweet voice from the corner.
The prostitutes had moved in a few years ago when the neighborhood had begun to deteriorate. A lot of the long time residents were outraged, but two of the "ladies" who shared an apartment, had come into the store and struck up a conversation with him while selecting a puppy. It was then he had come to realize that despite their chosen profession, they were people just like everyone else. He had gotten to know them each by name and they had come to respect the widower who made no judgments of them.
"Marcy, that you?" he asked peering through the darkness as he approached the two women.
"Yeah, me and Louise. Out for a stroll?"
"Just dropping off some doggy treats to Mrs. Cravens."
A car pulled slowly to the curb and the two women sashayed over, showing their wares to the potential customer.
"Well, you take care now. The streets aren't safe you know," said Louise.
"You should be telling this to me?" he smiled. There had been some muggings in the neighborhood during the last month, two of the victims hookers.
The women returned the smile then turned their attention back to the car and Charlie continued on his way.
He could just make out Mrs. Craven's apartment house another block up the street. He would cross at the corner, he thought and...
There was a sound from the alley as he started by. Startled, he thought at first it might be a mugger, but then the sound came again, a moan... someone might be in trouble.
Many, perhaps even most, New Yorkers would have turned and walked away as quickly as possible, not wishing to become involved, but not Charlie. His small town upbringing had ingrained in him the instinct to help which not even a lifetime of big city life could change.
"Hello?" he called, standing at the alley entrance. The moan came again. It sounded female. Perhaps it might be one of the "ladies." Maybe she..."
Setting down the bag, he made his way cautiously into the darkness. The moaning became louder until he could finally make out a figure lying next to an overturned garbage can.
"Miss, are you all right?" he asked kneeling down to help the woman to a sitting position.
"Charlie?... is that you?" he heard from the figure, still in such darkness that features were indistinguishable.
Wait, he thought, that voice..."Maria?"
Half an hour later, they were in his apartment, Charlie applying an ice bag to Maria's swollen eye and bruised cheek. He had wanted to call an ambulance, but she insisted she was all right which he patently dismissed. As a compromise, they had settled on his bringing her to his apartment for some first aid.
"That's going to be quite a shiner you've got there. What were you doing in that alley?" he asked.
Her look spoke volumes, the sudden realization striking home. He had simply never considered her one the "ladies" of the neighborhood.
He heard the whistling of the kettle and went to the kitchen to pour the tea.
"Charlie, thank you so much for helping me, but I should be go..."
"Nonsense. At least have a cup of tea."
"But you don't understand. That guy took all my money. I have to... to... earn enough for a room tonight."
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